"You want me to see them off from the gate?" she asked, and the other nodded.
"Yes. Lock and bolt the gate after them. When the doctor comes back, we shall hear him. But the door must be locked behind them now." Her voice rose in feverish excitement, her hands moved restlessly on the sheet, her eyes were bright with eagerness, and Christina could have sworn that fear looked out of them, too.
"Of course I will go and do as you wish," she said very gently, her hand stroking the restlessly moving hands; "you will lie very quietly here whilst I am gone?"
"Yes, oh yes!" the accents were impatient. "Only go—go down now. They must be ready to start."
Slipping on her cloak again, Christina ran downstairs, pausing half-way as she heard a sound of voices and footsteps coming from the corridor that intersected the hall, and that was just out of her sight.
"Carefully—lift her feet a little—take care round this corner—so," she heard the sentence jerked out in the doctor's voice, and from her post of observation, she presently saw him emerge slowly into the hall, walking backwards, and holding an inanimate woman's head and shoulders in his arms. Holding her feet, bearing half the burden of her unconscious form, was a tall woman of the servant class, upon whose face the rays of the hall lamps fell fully, and Christina could see all the shrewd kindliness of the plain features.
"Gently—wait a moment to rest. There—that's right—now then. Ah! the lantern," he exclaimed; "we must have the lantern across that dark garden."
"I will bring the lantern," Christina called out, rather tremulously, but running down the stairs without delay. "I was sent to lock the gate after you; I can light you across the garden."
She picked up the lantern from the hall table upon which Fergusson had placed it; and, with one shuddering glance at the flushed, heavily-breathing woman, who was being carried from the house, she put herself at the head of the strange little procession, lighting their footsteps as well as she was able. It was no easy task to lift the unfortunate creature, first through the green door, and then into the car, but Fergusson being an athletic man, with muscles in excellent order, and the tall servant being strong and well-built, their joint efforts succeeded in laying their burden along the cushions.
Christina stood at the door for a moment, watching the car turn up the lane, but when its brilliant lights were engulfed by the darkness, she turned back with a shiver into the garden, locking and bolting the door with trembling fingers, and running up the dark path as though all the powers of evil were at her heels. The front door of the house she secured as firmly as the other, then, more than half-ashamed of the nameless terror that shook her, she sat down for a moment on an oak chest by the fire.